The Ghost of Flight 666

CHAPTER 32: Confirmation

Slade watched the takeover of the Galaxus from atop the bridge roof. The bug on the bridge window explained everything except why the Iranians were taking over the ship. That explanation came after they left port and rendezvoused with the midget sub.

Slade had to admit that for all the faults of the Iranians the plan was slick. If their idea was to transport the Uranium to Jakarta then it would be immediately available to Al Qaeda for worldwide distribution.

He downloaded his recorded film and conversations from the bug, and then called the director on the satellite. True to his word the director himself was on the line in a few moments.

“Slade, we are shadowing the freighter with a Los Angeles class attack sub, the Key West. The skipper was keeping tabs on the midget sub and documented the transfer of the Uranium. Unfortunately the powers that be don’t put a lot of stock in acoustic data, they only believe what they see.

“It took an act of God for the president to agree to have the UN inspect the cargo on arrival in Abu Dhabi, but someone must have tipped the Iranians off. They blew up their own ship and crew so now everyone thinks the Uranium is at the bottom of the Arabian Sea.”

“One torpedo and we make that story come true sir,” Slade replied. “We can’t let that Uranium get on the open market in Jakarta.”

The director whistled, “The president will have an aneurism if we ask to sink a civilian freighter.”

“I’ll try and get the captain and the crew off the ship,” Slade said.

“Get me verification that the cargo is the missing Uranium and I may be able to do something.”

“Yes sir, they’ve only got two hundred Republican Guards watching the cargo. It’s a piece of cake.”

“I understand Slade,” the director said with laugh, “Good luck! Just get through this with as few bullet holes as possible.”

“That’s always my goal,” he said tersely.

Slade spent most of his time hiding in the lifeboat. It was a freefall type boat, completely self-contained, designed to freefall off the back of the ship. In it were supplies and emergency equipment.

Slade helped himself to the rations and the water packs. They were much better tasting than the military stuff he’d gotten used to. He even allowed himself a nap. When night fell things had quieted down and he made his way to the cargo hold.

Slade reached the amidships cargo hold, a huge space one hundred and fifty feet square. He entered carefully via a side hatch. It opened onto stairs lit by a single protected bulb. The stairs led down to a small antechamber with another hatch. Slade hurried down, taking out his forty-five and attaching the silencer just in case.

When he reached the hatch he listened for a moment. Hearing nothing, Slade turned the latch and opened the hatch a crack. He saw no one standing on the catwalk but there were two guards making the rounds of the dimly lit hold. There were four lights illuminating the cavernous space. Each light was placed halfway along the bulkhead just behind the hatch structure. This lighted the center of the hold well but left the corners in darkness.

In the hold were the three containers for the Uranium, each about eight feet cubed, and one long cargo container next to them about half the length of the hold, twenty feet wide and twenty feet high.

“What in the world can they have in there?” he wondered but that was a secondary consideration. Slade needed to get down there and fast. There was no telling when Nikahd would send more men. He waited for the men to make their circuit beneath him before stepping through the hatch. Slade closed the hatch behind him and descended the stairs, keeping a close eye on the guards. Their backs were turned and there was absolutely no chance of them hearing him.

This was a dry goods cargo vessel, so it didn’t carry oil; therefore, there was no need for a double hull. The waves beat upon the hull without mercy, making the interior of the hold a ringing, banging drum. That was fine as long as you weren’t inside it.

By the time the guards turned the corner Slade was on the floor. He slunk to the cargo containers, sliding into the shadows between two of smaller containers and the big one. It was almost pitch black there and Slade was nearly invisible in his black wetsuit. Taking out his test kit, Slade ran through the same radiation tests that the UN inspectors used: testing the exterior levels and then opening a small door in the container that gave him access to a valve.

The valve had a nipple designed to accept a fitting for a detector. Slade screwed his detector on it and opened the valve. Once he got a reading he closed the valve back up. This allowed a minute amount of gas from within the container to be analyzed by the detector.

It took only a moment for the detector to display the results: the cargo container had gas that had been exposed to Uranium 235. There was no longer any doubt.

He packed up his kit and secreted it within his belt. It was time to leave. First though, he wanted a look in the big container. What could the Iranians have in there?

A quick inspection showed that it was locked. He could cut through it with his tungsten cutter, but the sparks would alert the Iranians. It would have to wait. Slade had to get word to the director as quickly as possible.

Repeating his ingress in reverse, Slade climbed the stair swiftly and then exiting through the access hatch, at least that was the plan. As he reached for the latch on the hatch Slade heard voices on the other side. As he placed his hand on the latch it began to move.

Slade looked wildly around; there was nowhere to hide.